Getting Better
by madwriter223
Summary: -Kink Meme- It was several weeks after the assault on Gold, and Archie didn't know what to do to help him. SEQUEL to Such Incidents, mentions of past Non-con


AN: This is a sequel to Such Incidents (can be found on my journal).

**Getting Better**

It was several weeks after the assault on Gold, and Archie didn't know what to do to help him.

The last time Archie had been permitted to see his lover's pain had been in the morning he had brought him a change of clothes to the free clinic. Afterwards, Miss Swan had taken the older man along to arrest his rapist. The next time Archie saw his lover, Gold was already deep into his business persona. He denied that there was anything wrong, he claimed that he was fine and already over his ordeal. But Archie knew that was a lie.

He wasn't blind. True, Gold didn't hide himself away, didn't flinch around people, seemed comfortable talking to strangers. But at the same time, he was losing weight, he looked paler than usual. Instead of his usually swaggering limp, he moved stiffly, rigidly, even weeks after the stitches were removed. Also, the most physical contact Gold accepted from anyone was a hand on his arm, and even that was shrugged off quickly, after barely a few minutes. And Archie was no longer allowed to stay the night. He could stay for the evening, sitting next to his Trinket in companionable silence, but the moment Gold felt ready for sleep, Archie was firmly booted out.

It worried him. Archie knew that this was also natural, the strong need for privacy and to control one's own life, but it still worried him.

What worried him more was that whenever Archie tried to talk about what happened, he was asked to leave. Sometimes he wouldn't even be allowed to finish his question before he was standing before a closed door.

This wasn't healthy. His Trinket was hurting, a blind man could see that. And Archie wasn't allowed to help, either as a lover or as a therapist. That worried him the most.

*~*

Archie unlocked the door to Gold's house, and let himself in. He closed the door, and looked around. "Trinket? I'm here!" He called, but there was no reply. "My last two appointments caught the flue, so I'm early!" Still nothing. "Trinket? Gold?"

Nothing. Maybe he was in shop. But his shoes were here, as was his coat. So he must be home. Maybe he was in the basement.

Archie was just about to start looking when he heard something. He paused, listening intently. The sound came again, a high pitched keening sound.

"Trinket?"

A loud scream rung throughout the house, startling him. Then another sounded, and Archie run to the stairs, heading straight for the bedroom. He burst into the room, dreading the worst.

Gold was laying in bed, thrashing madly as he fought an invisible attacker. No, not invisible. One from a nightmare.

"Trinket!" Archie rushed forward, grabbing the flailing arms. "Trinket, wake up!"

Gold screamed again, tears trailing down his face.

Archie forcibly sat the other man up and shook him. "Wake up!"

Brown eyes snapped open, staring sightlessly at him.

"It's alright, it's just me. Archie." The redhead soothed him, brushing the long tresses away from his lover's face. "It was just a bad dream. It's over now. You're safe, Trinket." He kept murmuring calming words and phrases until Gold's breathing evened out, though his body still trembled a little.

A moment passed, then the pawnbroker's face twisted into a snarl, yanking himself away. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I finished early. I wanted to help you cook dinner so I thought I'd come by." Archie explained, staring at his lover. "How long have you been having nightmares?"

Gold wouldn't look at him. "All my life. I'm used to them."

"And nightmares that make you scream? Nightmares like this one? How long have you had these?"

Gold said nothing.

Archie sighed, sitting on the bed. "This is the reason I can no longer spend the night here, isn't it?"

The older man didn't bother denying it. "I didn't want you to know." He paused, then chuckled. "You'd probably try to force me to talk about them."

Archie groaned, rubbing a hand across his face. "Trinket, you can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"You can't keep denying that there's a problem! I've given you space, I've been patient, but you're only hurting yourself right now. You need help."

Gold glared at him. "I'm doing fine on my own."

"But you don't have to!" Archie scowled when the older man turned his face away from him. "Don't shut me out! I just want to help you. Please let me help you, Trinket."

"I don't need your help!" Gold shouted at him, eyes wild. "Only the weak need help, and I am not _weak_!" The last word was snarled, and the pawnbroker twitched, rubbing his hands through his disheveled hair.

Archie watched him sadly. "I know you're not."

"Don't patronize me." Gold growled, glaring with slightly wet eyes.

"I'm not." Archie assured him, edging closer. "Trinket, I don't think you're weak. I don't. You're the strongest person I know. No one else I know could handle this... could handle a rape so bravely. You fought him, you went to the clinic, you helped arrest that monster. Those are actions of a brave man."

Gold curled up slightly, shivering.

"But no matter how much you deny it, I can see you're not okay. I can see you losing weight, I notice how you draw away from physical contact. I just heard you scream through a nightmare. I can see that you're hurting. It doesn't make you weak. It just makes you a man going through a horrific, horrendous ordeal." He paused, letting that sink in. "I just want to help you stop hurting."

Gold was silent, then he whispered in a thick voice. "I didn't hire you as my therapist, dr. Hopper."

"You didn't have to." He drew even closer, laying his cheek against the top of Gold's head. "Trinket, I love you. I _love_ you. And I just want to help."

And maybe it was Archie's words, maybe it was that Gold was still unbalanced from his nightmare, maybe it was a combination of both, maybe it was neither. Whatever the reason, Gold's shoulders started shaking and his breath started coming in wet, shuddering gasps.

Archie wrapped his arms tightly around his Trinket, hugging him close and rocking them both side to side. He ignored the wet patch he could feel growing in his shirt and after a few moments Gold's arms drew up the redhead's sides, returning the embrace.

.

.

.

**Written for a Kink Meme prompt:**

Amazingly enough, Mr. Gold's a fantastic lover. He's smart, funny, charming when the mood strikes, knows when to give space, very discrete, amazing in bed and, away from prying eyes, surprisingly okay with cuddling. But there's one quirk that's getting old fast: he never lets them stay the night. He rationalizes it as him being "a private man," but when he dozes off in the shop one afternoon, his lover learns the real reason.

He has screaming night terrors.


End file.
